Knife
by EvantheNerd83
Summary: Riley has had her heart broken by Lucas, and she is in the dumps. Deep, dark, depressing dumps. Maybe she should talk it out with her friend... Mr. Knife. I don't own Girl Meets World. One-shot. Warning: Depressing ending contained within!


**Knife**

 **Written by Nerdboy83**

Note: I do not own Girl Meets World. Michael Jacobs and April Kelly (and not to mention Disney) do.

Riley looked down, the knife glistening in the light of the bathroom. She couldn't tell whether or not the light was making it shine, the tears were blurring her vision. She couldn't help it, she needed to cry. Her mother had always told her that one shouldn't hold in their feelings, no matter how dark and depressive they were, and that crying would make it all better in the end. The fact that her mother had issued to her a statement so clichéd was almost comedic to her, and she could almost laugh at its meaning. However, she couldn't laugh, because all the sense of humor she had was now gone.

After all, she was crying and it was only getting worse.

The statement was so clichéd that it could have been on the inside of a Hallmark card, delivered to a sick patient who would die in pain from an untreatable illness. Like cancer, or like AIDS. Or like Ebola. However, her parents were known exclusively for being Hallmark Fortune Cookies, doling out advice that was family friendly and clean enough to be almost sickening. Her father was the worst, or the best if you could look at it both ways, and his mouth would never stop treating her to the advice. Her mother wasn't too much like Cory, but she too delivered advice that was life changing. Riley was used to their constant tips and lessons that her parents doled out to her in times of crisis. Times when her friendships where on the verge of collapse. Times when she almost chose her friends instead of her family on family game night, the tradition her father was so desperate to keep together. They helped her, they really did.

But, they wouldn't help her at this moment.

She stared at the blade, taking it all in. The knife was so shiny, she could see the tears falling from her eyes in her reflection. The blade was so sharp too, and it curved along the bottom to end at a fine point. The knife handle was tightly gripped in her hands. She understood why her mother always used that particular knife for cooking dinner. It was the sharpest one in the drawer, and even though it had been used numerous times, it never lost its sharpness along the way. At that moment, she knew that she had made the right choice in selecting it. She knew that it would do the job.

Riley looked at the mirror, her reflection greeted her. Her usually curvy tangles of brown hair were now in a mess, spikes sticking up into her air. The space underneath her brown eyes was occupied by black bags from sleepless nights, and her eyes themselves were bloodshot. She was wearing a white T-shirt, faded by countless cycles of bleach. The sight of her own pitiful appearance wasn't shocking to herself, as she knew that she hadn't slept and washed herself in over five days, one hundred and twenty hours, seven thousand and two hundred minutes, and four hundred and thirty two thousand seconds.

The task wasn't accomplishable. She hadn't come out of her room since That Day, she couldn't have done so even if she wanted to. The feeling of heartbreak was too much for her to take. The hurt had passed by quickly, sure, but the stinging pain was still there. As soon as the hurt passed away, the feeling of some hazy residue of it remained, and it drove her to total isolation for almost an entire week. She stayed in her room since, the tears falling and the sobs rocking her frail body, sure that her parents would no doubt be listening behind the door, concerned.

Of course they were concerned. The simple act of her crying in front of her dad was grounds to immediate questioning to find the cause of hurting his little girl. Cory would go after the jerk who dared to even think about harming his young princess and she knew that her dad would hurt the person responsible. She was sure that he would injure or even kill for her happiness and safety. Topanga was also observant of her daughter and she would certainly try to sit her down and to talk to her daughter. The two were loving parents like any other couple but, Riley wouldn't let them in.

The days since that Sunday were empty, the hurt was all she could feel during them. No hope, no happiness, no optimism, just shock and anger. Shock at Lucas telling her that they shouldn't date anymore. Anger at her best friend Maya for not being there for her. The shock and anger flowed through her veins like motor oil, clouding her mind with painful memories of all the happy times she and Lucas had in the past. The images replayed in her head like a documentary, showcasing the highest moments in her life before the crash. She could mentally envision the rose he had given her on their first date, a visit to the diner where Maya's mother worked, the smile he had given her that caused her giggle. It hurt her to remember the lifted feeling that rose up through her heart the moment when they had their first kiss, the soft texture of his lips on hers. The feeling she suffered when she remembered the moment he had broken it up with her was too painful for her to envision it anymore.

The pain of heartbreak had stayed fresh in her mind. It tortured her every second she remained alive, and she couldn't take it anymore. She would do anything to put a stop to it, even if it meant putting a stop to her life. That was why she was there in the first place.

She had had enough. She didn't care if she had to suffer eternity in fire due to her sin. Hell was easy compared to the torment she suffered from the breakup. Even if she had hundreds of regrets, she didn't care.

Even then, as she looked down at the knife and thought about her actions, she felt the pain. Tears falling down on the blade, Riley lifted it to her chest, finding enough strength to just barely choking back her urge to call her mother, to see her parents come rush in and grab the knife away from her, to stop her. She glanced over at the door, and waited a moment. But, no one came to her rescue. No one would save her from her choice, even if it meant being placed in a mental hospital. She was alone.

Completely alone.

She looked at her reflection one last time, and plunged the knife into her chest. She felt a brief moment of pain, before it passed and a numbness reached through it. The blade had pierced her chest, impaling through her heart. She choked up blood, which spilled down her chin and onto the ground below. She felt the numbness grip her body, flowing through her like a river. She released the grip on the blade's handle, and fell to the floor. The darkness was consuming her mind, and she knew that nothing would be the same ever again. Her vision faded and soon, she felt nothing but the ever constant numbness, as death gripped her in its cold embrace.

One last thought was sent through her mind, as the darkness known as death consumed her soul.

'I'm sorry... Maya.'


End file.
